Saturday, November 16, 2013
I'm writing this blog to practice being open about my reality. I really like to make people happy. I don't want to pacify them or get them to ignore me; it makes me happy when I make other people happy (to a reasonable degree). But my love for my woman doesn't make everyone happy. It makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I love her too much to worry about their happiness, though, and that's quite a change in mental processes for me. So I blog to practice being honest about our relationship, especially to my family. Benjamin Moburg has given me a lot of encouragement about this, and I enjoy his blog quite a bit.
Darling, you are beautiful. Last Thursday I was reminded again of why I love you. Every time we kiss is a reminder, but last Thursday was extraordinary. Your favorite band played, and you put a lot of effort into getting to that show. You sang every word and pumped your delicate fist with such passion, my heart melted. The music was fantastic, and I was swept away again by your mysterie. You're beautiful and fascinating. You like the strangest things, and I love you because of it. I want to crawl inside your soul and understand why, but I know if I do it would destroy the reason. So I simply admire and adore, yearning for I don't know what and not really sure I want to find it anyway. Then you kiss me, and your firm, perfect lips put something tangible within reach, and I hold on for dear life, hoping this isn't a dream and I never wake up. I don't understand how someone so beautiful could ever experience such pain, but people have said the same about me and I know how frustrating it is to be misunderstood like that. I pray that my influence on you is a positive one. I want nothing but the best for you, babe, and strive to be the best for you so I can be selfishly altruistic in this desire.